


Warmth

by VictorianLegend



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:39:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictorianLegend/pseuds/VictorianLegend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis yearns for warmth. Lestat wants to give it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the Vampire Chronicles and its characters nor do I make profit from it. Lestat would have ended with Louis (as he rightfully should have!) if I did own it.  
> Warnings: Homosexual LOVE  
> Author's Note: Comment/s have been noted and edits have been made accordingly. :) Thank you. ^^

**Warmth**

It was raining, the wind cold to his skin and singing songs to his ears as he stayed seated in the dark shadows of his candle lit room in his old place in New Orleans. There was a typhoon blowing bucketfuls of water over the roofs of the houses where most of the people were spending their time, rubbing hands in front of the fireplaces and drinking hot soup. Louis wished he could be warm like them. But he didn’t bother. The warmth would only make blood tears form in his eyes knowing that what he desired was a heat that he will never attain: a heat of his own coursing through his veins and the heat of love that is reciprocated.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to stop the stinging behind his eyes. He should stop thinking about all these depressing things. He sighed. But he couldn’t stop it if he wanted to, could he? And so, he decided to sleep instead. His kill yesterday would have to suffice. The blood thirst would be ignored in favor of blessed blankness.

The persistent beating of the roofs and the shushing of the rain became his lullaby that allowed him to silence his mind and be engulfed in the pulling dark depths of sleep.

He didn’t know how long he slept but when he next opened his eyes, his candle had already died out and the night was inked entirely without the moon and the stars to keep illumination, the clouds of the storm snuffing them out early on.

An irritated huff and the sounds of ruffling clothes and sloshing shoes alerted him of an intruder and immediately his eyes opened wider and quickly turned toward its direction. He tensed.

“Mon Dieu! What is with this terrible weather! These leather shoes were new too!” Lestat whined as he rid himself of said shoes and threw them out the door. As he raised his head, he finally registered Louis who was staring at him. He smiled.

“You were here after all.” He said slowly approaching. Louis’ mind was blank as he took in the wet appearance of his maker, looking graceful and still feral, if not more so, with his mane of golden hair sticking wildly all over his exposed skin—his face, his neck, and his lips red and moist,  colored with the night’s victim and wet from the rain. And his tongue, which flicked unconsciously at the tip of his pointed fang making him look as if he’s hungry still, made Louis captive.

But his heart throbbed painfully and he once again became too aware of the ache in his chest. He frowned. “What are you doing here, Lestat?” He asked, voice quiet but edged.

Lestat by then was already in front of him, leaning towards him and to Louis’ chagrin, he knew he couldn’t escape the man with his superior strength. Lestat stopped a mere two inches from him and when he spoke, he could feel his hot breath caressing his mouth.

“Louis, you look cold.”

Of all the things that the man could have said! Louis closed his eyes, unable to contain the sudden surge of pain. 

Lestat must have noticed from the suddenly formed crease between his brows and the downturn of his lips that he was not able to control for he felt arms enclosing him right after and his head thumped lightly on the older vampire's hard chest. He heard the Lestat’s heart and he clenched his eyes as tears threatened to fall for the second time that evening. He burrowed his head closer.

“Mon amour, what is wrong? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Lestat asked as he laid his head on Louis’ soft black locks and made soothing circles down his back. Louis didn’t answer but Lestat continued to embrace him, continued to talk to him and Louis minded but he couldn’t find it in him to extract himself from the heat. Yes, he was cold.

“How many times have I told you that you should brighten up this place? Look how it’s depressing you and not keeping you warm! I don’t understand why you keep neglecting yourself!” He tried to push Louis away from him to look at his face but to his surprise, Louis arms encircled his waist. Louis was not trembling nor was he crying but the fierceness of his grip on Lestat’s shirt echoed the feelings he could not express otherwise.

Lestat smiled sadly, feeling a sudden burst of protectiveness and affection fill him at the sight that his beloved made. Slowly, a chuckle rose from his chest as he thought of the softness brought out in him by this single man. But at the action, Louis immediately tensed and moved away, his head turned and eyes refusing to look at Lestat.

He felt mortified. How could he have given himself away so easily? He was cold? Of course he was cold! He just hoped that he had better control on himself to not go about acting like a desperate lover clinging to a man that did not want him. At least not in the way he did. What he wanted most right now was for the sun to finally rise, the overwhelming bright heat being his only escape from Lestat. He wanted to enter the death sleep, the closest he’ll ever get to the comfort death would give him.

The sound of wet clothes hitting the ground alerted him before he was carried away to and laid on the worn couch on which he only sometimes used, the back of which was now pressed against his side and the rest of his body against his maker who engulfed the rest of his world. Lestat was above him and around him and there was warmth everywhere.

“Lestat, what are you—mmphf!“

Lestat kissed him, his large mouth overwhelming him like the rest of the man. A tongue prodded and entered his lips and he was left no choice but to surrender to the pillaging and taking of everything he was; all his despair, all his hatred, all his remorse, all his longing, and all his love, taken and given until all that was left was a heat that coursed through his entire body like magma, burning and etching every feeling and memory inside him, remaking him.

What had he done to deserve this? This burning heat that was sure to leave him in ashes the moment it was done with him, left to cool until the next coming.

He hated it but he could not let go.

Lestat was the one to pull away, a thread of saliva connecting them. He wasn’t smirking as Louis thought he would be after such complete victory over him. Louis had no more shame left to give. Instead, Lestat looked melancholic and in thought, assessing him through a pair of concerned eyes.

Lestat was lost for a moment as he took in everything that was Louis and what it all meant to him. What was Louis and what did he want to do with it? Louis was flushed against him, staring at him with a sad frown on his face, hands clenched tightly on his shoulders.

\--

Louis let his hands fall from where it was hanging on Lestat shoulders. If this shall stop, it had to be done now.

\--

The place where hands had once been felt cool, exposed to the night air. And suddenly, Lestat realized that all the places where Louis was not were cold.

\--

Louis pushed Lestat who easily gave way, deep in thought. He stood up while the other sat on the couch, staring at him with strange eyes. Louis moved, poised to flee to the streets.

-

Lestat shivered.

…

“I love you, Louis.”

Louis stilled, back turned to the other and very like a statue whose motion had been captured. He did not know why the words had the power it had. It was not the first time he heard it uttered to him by Lestat but he somehow felt that this time, the words, were different. Perhaps it was in the way it was said, Lestat’s voice rough and low as if he’d just woken from a deep sleep, the way it was spoken as if without mind, natural and pure in coming, no reservations and no plans.

Soft but determined steps approached him from behind and once again, arms encircled him in a heat he couldn’t escape. “ I love you, Louis. I love you, I love you, I love you.” Lestat whispered in his ear, his breath coming out in harsh puffs as Louis felt the hard thumping of his maker’s heart against his back. It was too late. He can’t escape now.

But now, he thought, it was okay.

“You should have said that before you took off your clothes.” Louis whispered back as he tilted his head to meet Lestat’s lips, the beginning of a smile on his face. Lestat pouted but did not stop his slow approach towards Louis mouth.

“But I wanted to keep you warm.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I actually finished a fic after so long! Why am I so lazy? I plan to write more this year so I hope that you all continue reading me! Enjoy! (Thesis. What is Thesis)
> 
> Comments will be greatly appreciated. :)


End file.
